


The Miracle Doctor

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst, Bad Apple AU, Doctor Victor Nikiforov, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Flustered Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Sarcasm, bad boy Yuuri Katsuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 00:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12469588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Dr. Victor Nikiforov is the best surgeon in his hospital, but this has never helped him feel any less lonely. That is until one evening when he finds a bleeding young man in a dark alley. It's his duty as a doctor to save his life, right? Even before he finds out who the young man is.This is aBad AppleAU (so it features bad boy Yuuri Katsuki and innocent Victor Nikiforov).





	The Miracle Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based on another prompt I got on Tumblr. It really needs a continuation which it will probably not get, so until then imagine a very hilarious chapter 2. Yes, imagine all of that.
> 
> I keep saying that I'm still open for prompts (Bad Apple or otherwise), alternatively I can turn this around: if you want to see more chapters of this fic, then you can send in prompts that will become chapters 2 and so on. (If you're shy for whatever reason, you can always send them anonymously to my Tumblr.) And don't feel like you need to come up with something really creative, if it's something strange than that might actually be even better! This is your chance to see that one scene, you've always wanted to see! (Please keep the prompts non-explicit, though.) It can be a tiny one paragraph long idea, or a chapter long idea, either one is fine.
> 
> Or, alternatively, you can read this fic, maybe leave a kudos and then just go away and never come back. I guess that's an option too.
> 
> Disclaimer: I apologize for any mistakes I made about doctors and hospitals.

The Miracle Doctor they all called him. He heard the kinds of things the nurses whispered to each other in the hallways of the hospital, but he didn’t know how to react to them. There were doctors who joined in too, but so many of them treated him like someone who was just grabbing all the fame and attention for himself. But how could he explain that he didn’t want any of the fame? It wasn’t like he could get any use out of it.

Fame wasn’t going to make his apartment any less empty or fill the seat next to him when he went out to see a movie. Which, incidentally, was what he’d just done.

A happy couple walked just in front of him. One of the women had an arm around the shoulders of the other one. Every once in a while they stopped to exchange a kiss, or a joke before going on.

He sighed and wished he could overtake them.

When they turned into a different street he thought he would finally get some peace and quiet. But his thoughts kept returning to how empty his apartment was. He really didn’t want to go back.

And then someone pushed him out of the way. He fell on his back as more people ran towards him. They jumped over him and kept going.

He sat up and put his hand on his head. What was going on?

And all hell broke loose as loud booming gunfire filled the street.

Terror froze him to the spot. What was he supposed to do now? Run for it? But he was a doctor! He had to go over there and make sure that people were okay!

He tried to get up, but his legs didn’t obey him.

_Oh my god! I can’t move! What do I do? What if they come back and decide to shoot me?_

_Calm down. Breathe slowly._

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

He sighed and got up.

The gunfire had stopped.

He couldn’t be sure, but he made a guess and walked in the direction they’d gone.

It was a stupid decision. They had guns and, as they’d just demonstrated, also no qualms about shooting people. And killing them. He, on the other hand, had no weapons whatsoever. And he was about to walk into a dark alleyway.

He hesitated.

It was really dark. They wouldn’t see a man trying to help. They would only see another enemy.

And then he heard someone swear loudly, going through swearwords, as if someone had given him a list and he was just reading them out one at a time, putting more emphasis into each word as it crossed his lips.

“Oh for the love of –” And then more swearwords. “Those  _damn bastards_  will pay for this!”

He ran in the direction of the voice. He’d worked in a hospital long enough to recognize when someone wasn’t just swearing, but was swearing because they were in a lot of pain.

As he ran, he pulled out his cellphone and turned on the light.

“Where are you?” he called out. He didn’t say “are you okay?” because he’d learned long ago that it was the wrong question entirely.

“Who the hell are you? The angel of death?”

The light fell on a young man sprawled out on the ground in a pool of blood, clutching his left side in a weak attempt to stop the flow of blood.

Forgetting everything, he dropped down next to him and put a hand over the wound. He raised his phone, trying to examine the young man. “Did they shoot you anywhere else?”

“I never expected the angel of death to ask  _that_! Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ve been a good person? Or do you already know the answer to that question?”

“I’m going to call an ambulance,” he told the young man and raised the phone to his head.

The light from the screen must’ve illuminated his face, because the next words to come out of the young man’s mouth (along with more expletives) were:

“Oh my  _god_! You’re joking, right? There is just  _no_ way! What the hell?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling the blood drain from his face in fear.

“It’s  _you_.”

“Yes?” he asked, more confused than terrified now.

“Victor Nikiforov,” the man said and laughed bitterly. “Yes, sure, call the ambulance,  _doctor_ , go on.”

It was so tempting to lower the phone and ask what the matter was, but he was in danger and Victor knew where his duty lay. “Hello? This is an emergency. I found a young man with a gunshot wound.” He gave his best guess at his current location and hung up.

“What’s wrong? Who are you?” he asked. If anything, it would keep the young man conscious. “And how do you know my name?”

The young man went on laughing. “Oh,  _doctor_ , tell me,” he said, once the laughter died down, “will I ever play the violin again?”

“You’ll be just fine. We’ll fix you up, don’t worry. And your hands aren’t injured, so –”

The young man laughed on. “Oh just  _wonderful_! My non-existent career as a violinist is intact,  _amazing_!”

“Can you be serious for one minute?” Victor cut in. “I need your name and address. They will ask when they get here.”

He gave an address and paused.

The siren rang out loud and clear in the night air.

The man grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down until their faces almost touched.

“My leg…” he gasped out. “Those damn bastards shot me in the foot!”

And then the whole street was full of lights and paramedics. Victor stepped back and watched them put the man on the stretcher. He could see the wound in his foot now.

“I’m coming with you!” he announced, following them into the ambulance.

“Dr. Nikiforov!” one of the paramedics exclaimed.

Oh good, they were from his hospital.

“Good evening,” he said with a smile. He never had a memory for names, but that didn’t matter at a time like this.

Then one of the other paramedics looked down at the young man and gave a gasp. “Oh my god!”

“Do you know him?” Victor asked. Oh good, it looked like they would have a name for his patient without asking him. Although, if they knew him, then it wasn’t so good, he tried to remind himself. Not for them, anyway.

“Don’t  _you_  know him?” the paramedic exclaimed. “Oh, maybe not, he was after your time.”

“After?” Victor repeated, completely lost now.

“He’s Yuuri Katsuki,” the paramedic explained. “He’s the top figure skater in the world.” There was a long pause as they both stared down at him. “Or was.”

The other paramedics were rushing around them, doing the best they could before they arrived at the hospital.

As soon as the ambulance stopped, Victor jumped out and followed the stretcher inside. He grabbed the first nurse he recognized and sent him off to prepare the operating room.

“I don’t care who it is tonight, I’m taking charge.” It was personal. He’d found the young man. It was his patient. And, well… Victor was curious. Plus there was another reason.

He set off down the hall with a determined expression on his face, completely forgetting that a mere hour ago he was watching a terrible comedy and having an awful time. Now he had something important to do and, in a way, he was happy.

He walked to the operating room, thinking only about the task ahead of him.

“You can’t operate on him, Victor,” Dr. Giacometti cut in, walking out of the operating room and blocking his way.

“What are you talking about, Chris?” Victor asked, stopping abruptly.

“We all know you had the evening off. And we all heard you talking about the movie you were going to see,” Chris went on.

“So what?” Victor asked, confused about where this was going.

“So everyone will assume you were out on a date with him,” Chris said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

“Oh, please! Let me through! His figure skating career is in danger and I’m the best surgeon in the hospital!” Victor tried to push past him, but Chris raised his hand higher, stopping him with this simple gesture.

“No, Victor, you have a potential relationship with a patient and they’ll take away your licence if they find out!” Chris protested.

“But –!”

“I won’t hear any more on the subject.  _I’m_ operating on him.” Chris returned to the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Victor all alone.

And then the police arrived. They bombarded him with questions, completely missing the expression that must’ve been on his face.

“You’re the young man who called the ambulance, right? Can you tell us how you found him?”

He realized then exactly what it would look like to them. He’d witnessed a gang war and for some reason this Yuuri Katsuki was caught right in the middle of it. As soon as he got better they would arrest him and take him away. And Victor would never see him again.

“We were out on a date!” he began and, before he could even think about it, tears poured down his face. It was amazing how easily the lies came after that first one.

“We went to see a movie,” he began, ignoring the tears. “I don’t remember what it was about.” He blushed, imagining the kind of movie date he’d always wanted, complete with making out in the back row. “We walked back together.” Now he thought of the two women who’d walked ahead of him. “W-we were flirting and Yuuri asked me for a kiss when these men came out of nowhere!”

One of the policemen pulled out a notebook and wrote his words down.

Victor paused and wiped the tears off his face with the back of his hand. Still they came. He couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. The more details his imagination added to their fictional date, the more the tears came.

“A-and one of them pushed us. Yuuri is… um… quick-tempered,” that wasn’t the right word, but that didn’t matter, “so he chased them into the alley and they…” He covered his face with his hands. There was just no way he would get through the rest of the sentence.

One of the policemen put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. We have your statement down.”

He raised his eyes. “I’m the best doctor in this hospital and I can’t operate on him!” he wailed.

The policeman patted his shoulder. “Listen, we’ll get you some water. Sorry, we didn’t realize that… Anyway, we’ll leave you alone. Thank you for your help.”

He nodded and let them leave. They didn’t even bring him a glass of water.

When he was alone he dropped into a chair and wept on.

He wasn’t sure what was worse: the imaginary date he’d described, or that it just existed in his imagination.

 

Yuuri opened his eyes. A single glance told him he was in hospital. He was hooked up to something and there was a bright light above him.

_Looks like you succeeded, Victor. I suppose a big thank you is in order. Right before they barge in and take me away._

His door opened and a doctor he’d never seen before stepped in. “Your name is Yuuri Katsuki, right?”

“Yes, doctor. What is it? Am I magically better and can I go home now?”

“I’m afraid not. You’ll be here for some time yet.”

“Oh wonderful,” Yuuri answered, reclining on the pillow and closing his eyes, “great. Just. Great.” And then he realized he needed to know all the bad news all at once. “Well, doctor, is my ballet career ruined completely?”

The doctor raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware you had one,  _Yuuri Katsuki_.”

“Ah! My cover is blown.” He rolled his eyes. “Well?”

“We’ll see,” the doctor said evasively. “I have high hopes for your  _skating career_ ,” he added and walked up to him.

Yuuri said nothing while the doctor examined him. The doctor muttered observations under his breath. He then gave Yuuri a true doctor to patient talk, which Yuuri only half-listened to. They didn’t know if he would heal enough to be able to return to figure skating. That was all he needed to know. They didn’t know.

 _Of course_  the bastards didn’t know!

The explanations done, the doctor headed for the door, pausing dramatically as he reached for the handle. “Oh yes, and your boyfriend is here to see you.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Should I send him in?” the doctor asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

 _So someone is calling himself my boyfriend now? Or did I knock my head so hard that I don’t remember that I have one?_ “Yeah, sure, whatever.” The faster he resolved this mystery, the better.

The doctor opened the door and stepped out with a “you can go see him”.

Victor Nikiforov entered the room.

Yuuri burst out laughing. “Hello, angel of death! I didn’t realize I was dating you.”

Victor walked up to him and took Yuuri’s right hand in both of his. “I’m sorry! I lied to them! I said you were out on a date with me when they shot you!”

That was odd enough to make Yuuri stop laughing and stare at Victor in surprise. “Why?”  _You don’t have to cover for me._

“I didn’t know what else to say!” Victor exclaimed. “I couldn’t tell them I saw you in a shootout with the others!”

“Why? Isn’t that what you saw?” Yuuri asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course not! I barely saw anything! Just a bunch of people running and then I found you bleeding in an alley! I couldn’t let them arrest you! You were bleeding!”

There was a long uncomfortable pause as Yuuri considered what to say next.

“So the whole hospital thinks we’re going out…” Yuuri muttered to himself. “And I’m stuck here for who knows how long…”

“Yes! Sorry! I’m so sorry about that!” Victor went on, as if he’d forgotten how to say anything else.

“But it’s also my alibi…” Yuuri continued, ignoring Victor.

“Yes,” Victor nodded and waited.

“Come here, boyfriend,” Yuuri beckoned with his finger.

“What?” Victor jumped in his seat, turning bright red. Yuuri noticed that still he remained where he was.

Yuuri shrugged. “What? I’ve done worse for an alibi.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. Are you scared of me now?” Yuuri asked, raising an eyebrow.

“N-not really,” Victor admitted. He looked at Yuuri’s foot. It was in a cast and Yuuri had done his best to not think about that. At least until that moment. “U-um… There are people in this hospital who believe that my touch has healing abilities.” He laughed. “I-it doesn’t, of course!” He reached out towards Yuuri’s foot. “But still…” He laid his hands on Yuuri’s cast and stared down at it in silence.

“Oh, I can definitely feel my foot healing now,” Yuuri said, rolling his eyes.

Victor laughed and took his hands away. “O-of course, it’s just a silly superstition.”

“Of course,” Yuuri repeated and watched him.

“So… um… I hope you get better soon.” Victor stood up and turned away. “I really hope this won’t ruin your skating career.”

Wasn’t he going to say anything about how they were going to keep up his alibi?

Victor walked to the door in silence.

Apparently not.

“So, when will I see you again?” Yuuri asked as soon as the door swung open.

Victor turned with a smile. “I-I won’t bother you anymore. Chris – I mean, Dr. Giacometti will let me know how you’re doing.” He paused. “I-in general terms, of course.” And then he remembered something. “What about your family? Do you want someone to call them and let them know? Or would you rather tell them yourself?”

Yuuri made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Right! It has nothing to do with me. Sorry.” Victor turned away and tried to leave one more time.

“You free tomorrow?” Yuuri asked.

“Why?” He didn’t turn around to look at Yuuri. He just stood there with his back to him like an idiot. Perhaps he  _was_  an idiot. Yuuri hadn’t seen much evidence to suggest otherwise.

So he was a doctor, so what? He  _had_ after all retired from figure skating right in his prime and only an idiot would do that.

“Everyone will wonder why you’re not going out with me,  _boyfriend_ ,” Yuuri explained and enjoyed watching Victor’s ears turn red.

“I-I’ll tell them that I-I lied,” Victor stammered out.

“And what about my alibi?”

“Then I’ll tell them that I broke up with you,” Victor went on stubbornly.

He really  _was_  an idiot. Yuuri smirked. “You’re right. In my current state, I’m useless as a boyfriend. Who the hell would want to date me?”

Victor spun around, his face deep red. “ _I_  would!”

They stared at each other in silence. Victor’s face was almost purple now.

“I-I mean…” he tried to take it back, but Yuuri wouldn’t let him.

“Then I’ll wait for you tomorrow. I’m a very demanding boyfriend. I want flowers and chocolates, and you better not forget my get well soon card!” Yuuri said, enjoying the expression on Victor’s face.

“Ah!” Victor exclaimed. “A-are you sure?”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. “You can bet your sweet ass on it.”

And now it looked like Dr. Nikiforov would faint.

This was going to be  _very_ fun. Yuuri shifted into a comfortable position and watched Victor stammer out a goodbye before leaving.

_I’m going to get back at you for retiring before I even got a chance to compete against you, Victor Nikiforov! And, well, maybe there will be other benefits to this situation. Who knows?_


End file.
